


Blueberries for Breakfast, love in the Afternoon

by skerryB



Series: The Chronicles of Evie, Astrid and Manta Rae Witt [5]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24935893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skerryB/pseuds/skerryB
Summary: Saturday morning breakfast was the most important time of the week in the Witt family household
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Series: The Chronicles of Evie, Astrid and Manta Rae Witt [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794418
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Blueberries for Breakfast, love in the Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from The Mamas & The Papas' Blueberries for Breakfast
> 
> thank you Britt and Heather for editing this, as well as everyone else for being so supportive of this dumb little AU
> 
> If you're unfamiliar with who these children are, The first work in this series sort of outlines who they are and their dynamic with Bloodhound and Elliott

Saturday morning breakfast was the most important time of the week in the Witt family household

Before the kids, when it was just Bloodhound and Elliott, Saturday morning breakfast was a quiet affair. Elliott would make them both pancakes, because 'that's tradition, babe', while they were perched on the kitchen counter, wearing one of his old button up shirts that hung loose on one shoulder. There would always be a few lost pancakes in those early years, a tragic side effect of a chef that spent too much attention covering Bloodhound's exposed skin with lovebites, relishing in the way the rub of his facial hair would cause full body shivers from Hound. The two of them would often retreat back to bed, fortunate enough to have the weekend free of competing in a bloodsport.

However, once the kids came along, that changed. Gone were the days of slow, near-silent smooches on the countertop. What existed in its place was the music playlist that Elliott had finely crafted himself. It was an eclectic mix of Latin Jazz his parents used to dance to, combined with Bloodhound's icelandic folk tunes, as well as the bubbly pop or cartoon themes from shows the kids were currently obsessed with, topped off with something that Bloodhound had perfectly defined as _"Old Dad Rock"_

Currently, Elliott had an eighteen month old Rae on his hip, her fist curled around a spatula that she was staring at with a level of curiosity only a toddler could possess. Behind him, on the breakfast bar, sat Evie and Astrid, who were working on sorting mixed berries into individual bowls. Even though Astrid ate the strawberries, raspberries and blueberries with equal adoration, the idea of them not being grouped had been challenging for her, so Evie and her sorted them, occasionally tossing a spare blueberry towards Artur, who had gotten better at catching them in his beak. 

Bloodhound stood next to them, wearing one of his old Apex branded sweatshirts. Under the sleeve, Elliott could almost trace the way their bicep muscle would flex and tighten as they stirred the next batch of pancake batter with a metal whisk. 

Over a decade ago, Elliott recalls, those same arms had choked him out during his first game, told him he had fought with honour, and that the Gods would be kind to him in exchange for his bravery. It was the last thing he remembered before waking up in the Apex Medical Bay, the screen in front of his bed announcing Bloodhound the sole survivor of the champion squad.

Looking around at his family, he thinks there might be some truth in that statement. Of the Gods being kind to him.

That moment is short lived however, as he is pulled out of his thoughts to the bitter scent of something burning. He looks down at the pan in front of him. Another pancake lost to a careless chef. He slid it onto a plate and put it on the edge of the breakfast bar, where Artur moved away from Evie and Astrid to tear at its burnt edges with his beak. 

While he's there, he takes the chance to place Rae on the bench, where she immediately reaches both arms out towards Bloodhound, whacking them in the arm with the plastic spatula in the process. It's painless, as one would expect from an uncoordinated toddler, who then throws the spatula to the hardwood floor.

"Mabbie. Up." She's looking up at Bloodhound, with eyes too soft to deny. Her hands are making grabbing motions, fingers grasping at the air between her and Bloodhound. 

Bloodhound relents, switching the pancake batter, which Elliott is quick to grab, with their attention starved child. Once Rae is firmly in their arms, she's got both arms around Bloodhound's neck, and is peering over their shoulder to watch Evie and Astrid, who are now in the process of helping Artur by tearing the burnt pancake into smaller pieces. He chirps at the two of them, before tearing into one of them.

"My love, you will need to pay more attention, otherwise our son will be too fat to fly" they say in a teasing tone, turning towards Elliott, who has formed a neat stack of flower shaped pancakes; It seemed Evie got to pick the shape today.

"Hey-" He pauses to flip another pancake onto his pile. "Blame the little helper in your arms, she was the one with the spatula"

Bloodhound laughs, shaking their head as they look down at their youngest child. "Is that true, my little bakari?"

Rae only blinks up in response

"Bakari?" Astrid asks. Her pronunciation is getting better, Bloodhound notes, But she still stumbles over the long 'r' sounds.

"It means baker, my little star" They answered, reaching out to push the curls out of Astrid's face. Both her and Evie could be mistaken as biologically Elliotts, with their matching loose curls. Not that it matters to them. 

For a moment, they treasure their surroundings. Rae shifting in their arms. Evie and Astrid moving to set the table. Their gorgeous husband following behind them, carrying three plates at once to the table. Bloodhound sets Rae into the high chair, a gift from Makoa when she was adopted, and gives her a small dish of berries to much on while they eat their first  
pancake.

Elliott takes a moment to appreciate the scene in front of him, the way Bloodhound is feeding Rae, praising her for holding her own utensils and chewing with her mouth closed. He watches the way Astrid and Evie take turns taking pancakes from the stack at the centre table, and spend an extended amount of time placing their berries in delicate patterns, before consuming their works of art. He nudges Bloodhound's leg underneath the table, places a hand on their thigh, before resting his head on their shoulder.

"Thank you for cooking breakfast, Elskan"

"Any day sweetheart" He replies, before sitting up and biting into his own breakfast. Back in the kitchen, the last long notes of Elliott's playlist dies down, replaced by the music of Elliott's family, together for their weekly tradition.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on my tumblr @lightupthisuniverse or on my twitter @skezzab


End file.
